we're finally notdotq anymore

[re; 117]Situation: someone’s life is in danger, but saving this one person puts into jeopardy the lives of many, many more. What do you do?

Would a moral person assign priority to the short term and save this one person? The reasoning was that Koiji and Ikumi couldn’t sit around and watch someone die. Yuki, on the other hand, views all lives equally regardless of context and stops the two from jeopardizing the lives of man others.

Perhaps Koiji and Ikumi were deluding themselves from the more crucial fact that they were hypocrites? – if Yuki had asked them “what would you say if you were that one person in danger?” would they respond “I’d be selfless and say ‘leave me behind for the sake of many others’”? If so, they would be contradicting themselves. If not, they would appear selfish, but that too would contradict their position of “selflessness” because they’re putting their lives at stake for the sake of one person.

[If 'what if' statements are not legit in philosophy then oops.]

But I think we can use ‘what if’ statements because Koiji and Ikumi were thinking not of the person in danger but of themselves, of their egos. Perhaps, the central theme here and thing which undermines the position of the two is the fact that Koiji and Ikumi wanted to save not so much the concrete existence of the person as their own abstract selves. This is supported because, as it were, this “concrete existence” isn’t even concrete to Koiji and Ikumi – they never see this person, only their representation on a digital device. Maybe.

Thus: does knowledge alone of a real thing make it concrete? If I know it’s there but do not, with my senses, perceive that it is there, does that still make it as concrete as if I were really perceiving it with my senses? If, then, suddenly I can perceive this real thing with my senses – I can see it, touch it, hear it – does that change the nature of the thing or, perhaps moreso, my own perception of that thing not in simple terms of the magnitude of my emotions directed towards the thing, but in terms of why these emotions arise within myself and to what they are really directed?

[hermeneutic sidepoint: essentially, considering the anime, trying to draw a conclusion is futile because we can never know the true intentions of Koiji and Ikumi (unless they admit to us the nature of their egos).]

Pragmatic conclusion: a life is a life, we should ignore our abstract selves and save as many lives as possible, thus, the person dies.

Realist conclusion: the effect of the symbolic representation of this real person has on us is worthless because a concrete person exists beyond our idea of it. Do we save it? – ask the deontologists!

Idealist conclusion: the effect of the symbolic representation of this real person has on us enormous effect. Do we save it? – ask the pragmatists!

Deontological conclusion: focus on the immediate effects of the act – you are directly neglecting to save a life, thus not saving this life is morally wrong. Save it!

ObersteinConsequentialist conclusion: yes indeed a life is a life, that is why we should save as many as possible. The ends justify the means.

[note: it may seem like I'm misinterpreting idealism because, nevertheless, this person is still real and exists outside our immediate ideas of it, though it is only known through the proxy of an abstract representation. I do not know of any ethical philosophy which deals with semiotics...though I've never really read much of any of the philosophies I've cited except a bit of The Prince.]

I realized way too late that my allegedly final post on this site lacked any kind of impact. So now I’m making an ultimate final post, acknowledging that yes, I am shutting the site down again. But with an added bit of info:

I have always loved Suzumiya Haruhi.

There are no words for her beauty, both of mind and body. As such, I do not have any.

A while ago, on IRC, I mentioned this. A few comments on YouTube contain the term now. And finally, after several weeks, there is a site. Click the image to enter.

I once asked fifteen questions of my readers, back when I was in Copenhagen around the birth of ANO. That was a good time- I was watching insane amounts of bad anime, not sleeping, blogging Strawberry Panic, and Dr. Japes was still around the IRC channel. Tomorrow, I take my US History AP test, and, while I promised myself (and my friends, and my family) that I would get a 5, I’m finally starting to get a little nervous…

I feel the need to know more about the world before I die, so I hope that you can all answer these questions intelligently and completely. Owen, Michael, I’m primarily looking at you.

1. was I wrong to establish myself as a troll in my post-retirement blogging stage?

2. who would win in a fight, Drm’s penis or my ass? Consider advantages either of these may have, such as opposable thumbs or heatvision.

3. am I male or female? No “internets” answers please.

4. how old am I? Answer in anime-related terms.

5. does Os love the ogre more than me?

6. what’s the first association you have when you think of me, or this blog, etc.?

7. is Owen the approved successor to Dr. Japes’ position as “most intelligent and incisive anime blog” ?

8. why is it that, while both are the epitome of fanboyism, Jeff > Jason?

9. have you ever used the phrase “hard yuri” or have you ever cannibalized my “yfr” acronym to mean “yaoi flute rape”? And, if yes, why don’t you wake up every morning wondering what a fucking moron you are? And, if you do, why haven’t you killed yourself yet?

10. even though roreee is “my” “moe sound,” I still say “gao” all the time (out loud, to other people). WHy is this?

11. Triple V or Triple A? Lack of bad pseudo-yuri anime or nation-wide depression?

12. Does anyone think I haven’t watched Last Exile, H&C, etc.?

13. From which end do you start eating … loliyuri ice cream…? >_>

14. Is there going to be a Black Lagoon s3? Will it be a better or worse sequel to BL s2 than Da Capo Second Season was to DC? Also, won’t DC II anime just blow?

15. Wrath of God or Damnation?

(Also, fuck dying. I want to live.)
(As you can see, I’m mastering redundancy. “Pseudo-yuri?” I kill myself.)

… for about four seconds.

For the purposes of this, I’ll be setting aside previous assertions regarding The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi, regardless of their nature. This includes my “vitriolic rant on moe” and any beliefs anyone else holds. In addition, as this is a study of the anime, the books and manga will be disregarded for now. Now, the purposes of this are two-fold: to determine whether or not there is anything redeeming to the show beyond execution and animation quality and to further my own understanding (and possibly that of others) of the show.

How did I come up with the idea of doing this? Well, having just finished As I Lay Dying, I felt it worthwhile to examine what this show does on the same level as one examines the various clocks of Faulkner’s odyssey. I’ll most likely end up reading way too far into things, or, noticing that, getting frustrated and burning something. This study will most likely consist of eight parts (unless I condense a few)—one for each of the main arc’s six episodes, a seventh for “Episode 00,” and an eighth for wrap-up. Finally, a thank-you to the folks at a.f.k, whose translation I pull words from in my quotes.

• And without further ado, The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi Episode 02, “The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi Part 1.”

The story starts with a close-up on a spinning bike wheel. Zoom out to Kyon riding his bike. He parks it and locks it, then proceeding to walk the rest of the way to school. He looks back twice on his way to school; once, as he’s leaving his bike, and then a second time when he has almost scaled the hill, this second time with a look of disbelief bordering on disgust. All the while, he is chatting about what can be described, in a word, as “faith.” He mentions a childish dream of not wanting to admit to “aliens. time travelers. espers. evil organizations” (00:35) not existing.

This aversion to reality is ironically complimented by his sarcastic praise for the integrity of the laws of physics. At this point, knowing nothing about him, one could easily decipher that he is a hopeless cynic—but perhaps he sees “aliens. time travelers. espers. evil organizations” in the city he’s leaving behind as he walks. He turns around and looks back down the hill, most probably at the spot he left his bike. He leaves his bike behind as he enters high school, throwing away his childish beliefs and immersing himself in his perceived “reality.” The lock on his bike is not an anti-theft device; it’s a seal on the supernatural, on those “childish dreams” he “graduated from” (01:25).

Kyon gives a very normal introduction on his first day and is received more or less warmly by his new classmates. When Haruhi, the girl behind him, announces that her interests lie solely in “aliens. time travelers. espers” (01:45), Kyon turns around, skepticism etched into his face, and asks himself, “Are we supposed to laugh?” (01:55). He has a clear understanding of what is normal and what is not, despite his recently-discarded whims, and is not amused by Haruhi’s atypical introduction. Physics forever~! He notes that she appeared to him as a “striking beauty” (01:59) and, while this could be easily written off as his wit, it’s quite possible that he was in fact struck by her beauty, which (and I’m forecasting here) can explain a lot.

It is also worth noting that Haruhi sits directly behind Kyon. And that, as he says, “in hindsight, [her introduction] was neither a joke nor a laughing matter” (02:18). The bathroom symbolism for their meeting is also worth noting—between the two doors is a sign that says “4F”. One can infer that these bathrooms are on the fourth floor. This is a continuation of the ascension commenced when Kyon leaves behind his bike: he has not only graduated the lowlands, but he has come up to the fourth floor of the school upon the hill.

Before the opening sequence rolls, he mentions that he hopes he can believe in their meeting being coincidence, another irony in that he is seeking faith (believing) in the mundane (coincidence). As he throws away his beliefs and the unreal, he holds onto the idea that he can believe in the real, that his lauded laws of physics are as well written as he praised them for being.

As for the opening sequence itself… I’m only going to discuss it once (probably) and even then in vague terms. There are a couple points of interest but the majority of it is, unfortunately, fanservice, shot after shot of supremely-genki Haruhi being… well, herself. The first point is the beginning, where the night sky fades to white and Haruhi reaches out into the sky, taking a bodiless hand. Bodiless can also be interpreted as intangible, and that in itself has multiple meanings in this context. “The whole show is an illusion” is one possibility; she is grasping something that is simply not there. Alternatively, the hand is to Haruhi as the finger is to Adam in Michelangelo’s painting. She, the chosen of God, is connecting with Him. The second point is Kyon’s bike at “dokomademo jiyuu na…” (3:35)—here, he is still (or possibly once again) in touch with his childish beliefs. Given the section of the sequence, which is Haruhi calling Kyon to her, one can safely assume that this is Kyon being pulled back down into everything he ascended above. Ironically, the multi-color image in the background is that of bike(s) lying on the ground.

After the opening, Kyon asks to be forgiven for “losing [his] mind for a moment” (04:14). The reason? He addressed Haruhi. Their first interchange, much like the first interchange between Masami Eiri and IP Lain of Serial Experiments Lain, is essentially meaningless. Also much like that first interchange between Masami Eiri and IP Lain, it involves a heavy dose of mind-fucking. Haruhi’s insistence that her introductory speech wasn’t a joke toys with Kyon’s maturity; in treating his middle-school dreams as reality, she is in effect breaking down the world he knows. Not entirely conscious of it at this point, a change takes place when they talk for the first time. Kyon has been irrevocably snatched away from the hill, physics, and the fourth floor by this odd, short-tempered girl. Severely confused by her behavior, Kyon backsteps out of the conversation, though not without looking back.

Later, he is discussing Haruhi with his classmate Taniguchi, who knows her from middle school, that time when Kyon wished for “aliens. time travelers. espers. evil organizations” to exist. Haruhi is apparently famous for having done a lot of weird things back in middle school—scrawling giant pictographs, emptying a classroom of its desks, etc. These are the things she did back in the city below the hill, and Taniguchi’s recounting of them furthers her metaphorical vise-like grip on Kyon’s arm. Taniguchi’s talk is comprised of several different scenes glued together. One over a meal, one on outside staircase, one during a break in the classroom… and in each of these scenes, Kyon is watching Haruhi. And when he looks back at Haruhi, he is looking back at the childhood he left behind in walking to school.

Taniguchi warns Kyon against asking Haruhi out. Kyon claims that he’s “not even interested” (06:19), but it’s not a matter of being interested or not. Just as gravity demands that objects come down from high places, so does Haruhi’s presence demand that Kyon descend from his position as a cynical middle school graduate who praises physics. Taniguchi’s banter carries on to mention Asakura Ryoko, who at the time is running a lap in gym class. Kyon looks on, unamused, as Taniguchi talks, but then frowns at 06:52. He isn’t frowning at Taniguchi’s idiocy, nor at Ryoko—he frowns as Haruhi takes to the track. His reaction to her is perfect; he understands that he is under her control and yet is denying it as fervently as he shut down the possibility of the supernatural existing.

Kyon goes on to elaborate upon some of Haruhi’s odd habits. They can all be written off as quirks of her character. None of them matter for anything other than setting up how “weird” she is and a bit of situational humor, such as Kyon’s snide “So that makes today Wednesday” (08:42).

Coming back from a week-long holiday, Kyon comments on Haruhi’s hairstyle—and begins their second conversation. This interchange proves that Kyon’s hindsight isn’t 20/20; he refers to this conversation as “the trigger” (10:00) while the trigger is clearly his “fit of insanity” back when he first addressed her. Kyon’s overabundance of thought regarding her (even back then, as indicated by how disturbed he is at her cutting her hair [10:15]) is a sign that she has successfully dominated his mind. Kyon, who sees her and through her looks back at where he left his bike, has begun talking to her on a daily basis.

They discuss Haruhi’s bad luck with men. She is of the belief that only worthless men inhabit Earth, mainly because none of them are aliens, time travelers, or espers. Kyon thinks to himself, “that’s to be expected” (10:57), again trying to cement his maturity. He tells himself he’ll play along with her, implying that he’ll patronize her despite knowing better than to believe in aliens et al. Ah, Kyon. He’s almost tragic. Now, during these longer sections of dialogue, there isn’t much to note about the visuals. Kyoto Animation, for all their attention to detail and trickiness, doesn’t throw us any curve ball symbolism during “down to earth” scenes like these. KyoAni does execute the characters charmingly, capturing their mannerisms and expressions fairly well, but that doesn’t add to meaning or aid understanding. We know who Kyon and Haruhi are without the close-ups on their faces in this scene, and while the execution touches are very nice for the casual watching of the show, they’re completely nonessential.

The conversation ends with Haruhi asking if it isn’t the case that going out with aliens would be more interesting than humans… yeah, girl. Whatever. More creepy than anything else, I’d think. But, to be fair to the poor girl, let’s accept that this is an important part of her character: the reason she seeks the supernatural so eagerly is that she desires something fun. In other words, she’s bored with this ugly yet beautiful world.

Kyon’s buddies (and Ryoko) approach him, asking him (quite ironically) what kind of “magic” he used to get Haruhi to talk (11:54). (Forecasting again, but…) … is Ryoko’s creepy, stalker-like interest in Haruhi in this second episode some kind of foreshadowing?

Next, a new seating chart is made!
(We’re about halfway through the episode, folks, hold on tight ^_^)

“This is coincidence, right?” Kyon asks himself as he takes his new seat (13:15), only to find that Haruhi’s new seat is that directly behind his. I swear I’m going somewhere with this. The two exchange some more meaningless small talk, and then Kyon goes on a minute long rampage about how supernatural stuff doesn’t exist, geniuses make civilization advance, and “common folk like [them] are best off living an ordinary life” (14:41). The man is in serious denial, and he seeks some pretty hefty comfort in how weird Haruhi is compared to him.

The fact that Kyon survives Haruhi’s spinal-column-breaking-attack is a sign that he’s more than human, by the way.

Haruhi thinks of the club… Haruhi extorts Kyon into helping her form it… Haruhi steals Nagato’s clubroom… Haruhi uses fucked up non-logic to explain why she can use the room, blah, blah blah… This whole set of scenes between the neck-desk and Kyon’s discussion with Nagato at 17:59 is pretty much fanservice of Haruhi’s character. There’s nothing to discuss here unless you want to run in loops through her logic, but that’s not interesting at all and doesn’t lend to the greater understanding of the show. (Again, that’s forecasting—I happen to know, having seen the show through, that her messed up logic in this episode doesn’t play a major role later on.)

Nagato’s “unique … all of it” (18:06-18:11) is an interesting pair of words. Not only do they answer Kyon’s question, but they very concisely sum up everything we’ve learned about so far. Kyon’s narration, Haruhi’s antics, the as of yet still to be named club, Ryoko’s inquisitiveness, Kyon’s obsession with reality, Nagato herself… all of these can be described as “unique” from the perspective of a character within the show (of course, to us, one or more of these items aren’t unique, being more or less stock). Ah, Nagato, you insightful little wench.

Alright, from this point on, the episode is just fanservice and comedy, aside from Mikuru’s expressive GASP at seeing Nagato. “SOS-dan” cements Haruhi as incredibly bored, and her abuse of Mikuru cements her as incredibly fucked up. Mikuru is a doormat who somehow knows something about Nagato and Nagato is the omniscient silent type. Where we go from here is entirely up to the next episode.

So, in review, I think I noticed some things I hadn’t noticed before… and will continue to do this, as outlined in the second paragraph of the post. I hope this was either a fun read, boring to the point of suicide, or anywhere in between. Beyond either extreme is a little scary. Hope I didn’t offend anyone except for the people who like the fact that I bash Haruhi all the time. See you next~

So, I beat Hinano. She went down to watching a whole seven minutes of this show; I successfully jacked out at two and a half. The moment Blue-tan started licking that… thing… I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. Tell me I’m not win otaku, as tj han has, if you will, but if win otaku means being pleased by shit like this count me out.

This is so bad… it’s so bad, I won’t even blog it. It’s… Haruhi-level bad.

What’s so bad about it, you ask?

And what right do I have to talk, having only seen two and half minutes of a single episode of a newly started show?

Oh, we’ve seen this show before. We’ve all seen it before. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu is. Whoredom at its finest. We’ve seen it in Naruto; the single franchise that makes the most money with the least effort. We’ve seen it in Gonzo films that make relatively little money with a lot of effort, but please a lot of fans with “zomfg suteki~” animation. Before Lucky Star, there was this dancing anime.

And now, there’s this dancing anime.

And it’s multiplying.

As you all may or may not know, I’ve long hated the concept of “moe.” It objectifies a set of qualities (given, this set includes every single quality there is, according to Dr. Japes) and turns appreciation into a pretty damn formulaic thing. Instead of enjoying a character for the character as a character, “moe” aspects, traits, behavioral patterns, etc. take the foreground and become reason for a character’s acceptance. Instead of being intrigued by Tsukimiya Ayu’s lack of background, in watching Kanon, fans trouble themselves with “she’s so cute!”

And why’s she cute? Because she says “uguu.” And because she wears that coat, and those mittens, and that backpack, and acts like the little loli bitch she is. But who is she? Does anyone think to wonder?

Don’t you want to know who this girl is? Oh, we find out, after twenty-four episodes, eighteen of which were spent on other characters. There’s no development to Ayu’s character. Yuuichi is frighteningly detached from concern regarding this little girl who claims to know him… and who doesn’t have a family? Or a home? Or a school? Or any of the things she claims she has? All of a sudden, twenty episodes in, he kisses her… but we, the viewers, what motivation do we have for wanting the protagonist to kiss Ayu? Who is Ayu?

Some girl who says “uguu.” She likes taiyaki and dislikes scary things, including the dark.

/me snaps fingers

That’s not a character, and this degeneration of character development in favor of pandering to fetishes/aesthetics is the main reason I’m opposed to the concept of “moe.” “Moe” is whoredom, plain and simple. Yuki’s silence. Haruhi’s psycho bitchiness. Mikuru’s “lolimoe” helplessness. Tsuruya’s nyoro~n. Yes, even Itsuki’s homosexuality. Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu’s saving grace has always been, in my opinion, Kyon’s narration, and that may well be because he has a solid character. Of course, it’s entirely possible that the author of the novels merely made him as bland and dry as possible in order to help readers connect to him. Maybe there isn’t anything, even to him.

So why do I rant against “moe” so vehemently?

Lucky Star is, in a word, “moe.” You only need about 4 seconds of the obnoxious OP to figure that out. Take a look at these responses to bj0rn’s post about the OP:

• Impz says: MOE ATTACK!!!!!! i am dying, i am dying and I want my lucky star now!!!! moeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~
• bakavic says: I just died. [...] The dancing is just too addictive…
• Aesir says: holy.. tat was.. just too awesome for words @@

And this explosion occurring as a result of Lucky Star’s entrance isn’t same old, same old. Look how willing these ghouls are; look how eagerly they embrace something knowing the meaning of “moe” and that they’re under some twisted genjutsu. The sos-dan.com site, formed some time last year in response to previous whore-show Haruhi, is scuttling with little bugs of people, the sad remains of people once unaffected by this “moe.” What was once a stupid book about some alien-loving girl has escalated to the level of epic reeducation.

I repeat, it’s multiplying.

I had respect for Kyoto Animation. I respected them for making AIR, the one show I’ve seen with the most compelling atmosphere. I respected them for making Fumoffu, the one show that’s made me laugh the most. I could deal with them making Haruhi; it’s business, after all. I cried more for the Haruhi fans than for myself when they made Kanon—what harm could it do to me? But this… this “Lucky Star” or what have you…

I quote Omni on the OP sequence, “It makes me think that they’re intentionally trying to create another Hare Hare Yukai style sensation.”

You think right, Omni.

They’ve descended from grace and are now fervently recycling everything of theirs that ever worked. Haruhi was passable and Kanon was a step back in the right direction. Lucky Star?

Kyoto Animation, you are whores.

You are whores and your show fucking sucks.